Chapter 1352 - 1320: Awakening

As Lann looked up, the armor’s auto-triggered [Quen Rune] created an opening with scattered fragments.

The scythe blade that Gremman had dropped during the weapon transformation process was swiftly snatched back into his right hand with a sidelong reach.

In the following instant...

"Zzzz!"

A sharp explosive sound and glaring sparks appeared simultaneously!

The sparks were extremely fierce and bright, with a brief exposure intensity that made the surrounding environment seem dark for a moment!

And after this instant, the truly violent sound wave swept out.

Starting from Lann’s side, a sharp and sinister blade mark extended from his feet outwards, reaching up to twenty meters away.

The fragmented stones and earth flew everywhere, while the floating white petals were stirred by the wind, refusing to settle.

Gremman, now holding the [Funeral Blade] scythe in his right hand, turned around at the end of the scarred trace.

The wind that lagged behind him by more than a step finally caught up with a ’boom,’ violently swirling the already floating petals into an even more fragmented, higher spiral.

And Lann, at this time, slowly lowered his arm that had been shielding his neck.

On the outside of his arm’s armor, a small area on the [Smaug] dragon scale was cooling, resembling lava lowering its temperature.

From glowing red, it slowly faded and eventually returned to its normal bone-white state.

Yes, compared to Lann, Gremman’s technique was limited.

He wouldn’t use the Qi Flow Blade to expand attack range, nor did he have the Demon Hunter’s magic tricks.

But there’s one thing... he’s really, really incredibly fast!

Amongst the falling petals, Gremman turned around.

The bluish flame, like a static burn on the old man’s body, grew ever more intense and powerful.

On the blade he held single-handedly, the blade edge of a large metal section was experiencing the same change as Lann’s arm armor in the distance.

Moving from high-temperature bright red, slowly dimming.

At the moment he retook the scythe blade, Gremman immediately activated his body and maximized his [Acceleration Technique].

Compared to the weapon’s scythe state, his one-hand swordsmanship could even be considered crude, but once combined with his intrinsic speed...

Earlier, he merely raised the blade beside him and dashed past Lann.

Such a simple and crude move directly heated up the outside of the [Smaug] arm armor and a section of the [Funeral Blade] to the point of glowing red!

A huge, menacing crack was also gouged out by his speed and the blade positioned outside his body on the flower-covered ground!

Gremman’s hand lowered the scythe blade, nearing the wooden prosthetic limb.

The [Funeral Blade]’s scythe blade was sharpened on both sides.

In scythe state, Gremman used the inner curve for cutting.

In one-hand state, he used the outer arc for hacking.

"The armor is nice... though it looks quite old-fashioned." Gremman leisurely praised again. "That seems to be made of some monster scales? Very peculiar, I haven’t seen it before."

"Just foreigner’s foreign armor," Lann shrugged the arm he had raised to block the scythe, speaking nonchalantly, "How about it, are you interested?"

"Heh heh." Under the brim of Gremman’s hat, he chuckled indifferently, "These old bones of mine are old enough; no need to pursue old-fashioned armor."

The next moment, the old hunter with a smile on his lips abruptly vanished!

-----------------

"Hiss~"

Amidst the sudden intake of breath, Maria instinctively reached toward her waist to grab her [Fallen Leaves] Long Blade.

To her relief and reassurance, she quickly grasped her weapon in its familiar position.

"No one touched them."

A voice that seemed familiar yet strange to Maria rang out nearby.

It was the voice of a fifty or sixty-year-old man, muffled by a mask.

He was a hunter.

Maria opened her eyes, lifted the tricorn hat with swan feathers from beside her face, straightened up, and pressed the hat onto her head.

Cold and calm, even when standing in a pool of mutilated flesh and blood, the Yan Nan Hunter’s voice remained the same.

So Maria immediately recognized the old man speaking to her as an old hunter.

The dangerous kind... old hunter.

Maria cautiously stood up, her hand never leaving the grip of her long blade at her waist, and her eyes never leaving the old hunter in a dust-brown coat.

She could feel that he was also on guard against her. But his vigilance was always discreet, never revealing a trace.

Still, Maria’s left shoulder and arm unconsciously bristled with hair under her coat.

Once, during her past hunts, her body felt this warning when targeted by a ferocious and terrifying beast.

Except this time, it’s more specific and directed.

Because on her left side lay the point of vulnerability in her swordsmanship.

And she was sure that she hadn’t interacted with this old hunter before.

In other words... have you discerned my weakness just from my habitual body movements?

Not only have we never interacted, but there’s no such figure among the most formidable hunters in Maria’s impression.

Behind Henrik, the two little girls wearing dresses, who were originally peeking, now nestled in the arms of their mother at the other end of Oton Chapel, curiously looking in this direction.

As Maria cautiously moved her body, waking from the bout of poisoning, she also saw clearly where she was now.

With a soft ’click,’ the leather glove released its grip on the hilt.

Underneath Maria’s cool gaze, she raised her hand to smooth her somewhat disheveled white hair from just getting up off the ground.

The female hunter’s action of tidying her hair was neat and swift, while the Blood Nobility herself exuded an air of elegant nobility.

The combined action and demeanor made the two little girls peeking from afar utter amazed sighs in their mother’s embrace.

This made Viola, who was holding them, a bit envious and gently patting their heads.

But Henrik, sitting on the steps and watching the other, remained calm in the eyes caught between his mask and hat brim.

"Calmed down? Hmm, seems like... you are indeed Lady Maria."

"We seem to have never met, sir," Maria said calmly, while conveniently arranging her lace scarf stained red from spitting blood.

"But Adeline is also asleep here, along with women and children... doesn’t seem like a battlefield or execution ground."

"Since there’s temporarily no danger, only one question remains."

Maria lowered her head, seriously looking at Henrik sitting on the steps.

"The man who brought me over, a tall man, where is he?"

"Lann?" Henrik showed no signs of concealment, "He wants to end this prolonged hunters’ night, so he’s planning on doing something."

"Specifically?"

"Specifically." Facing the inquiry, the Old Hunter remained unmoved, "He doesn’t want to say, I trust him, so I won’t ask more."

"Hunters’ night." Maria pinched her high nose bridge with some headache, "I haven’t asked yet, what does this term mean?"

"...Hmm hmm hmm." Henrik was initially silent in a bit of astonishment, then laughed deeply under the mask, "Yes, you should not know. After all, in those past years, wasn’t the beast transformation disease almost proclaimed as ’eliminated’?"

Maria silently opened her mouth, indeed as her understanding was.

During the days of Old Yan’an, except for that last day when the fire spread, the beast transformation disease seemed really to be an unnoticeable issue.

"More and more beast-turned patients, hence hunters had to pick one night for people to go home and then kill all madmen daring to be on the streets."

Henrik simply explained the concept of hunters’ night, but just this simple sentence was enough to stupefy Maria, someone from the Old Yan’an era.

"Hunters... hunting on the streets?"

Maria whispered in disbelief and pain.

"Could the situation have deteriorated to this point?"

"What did we back then... actually do?"

"I don’t know what you high-level people did back then." Henrik said casually, while seeming to relax, raising his hand to remove his hat and undo the mask.

"But if you need, you can rest in this Oton Chapel. After all, you were entrusted here by Lann."

"Oton... chapel?" Maria seemed to become slightly familiar upon hearing this name.

Oton Chapel is at the edge of Church Town, built a long time ago.

She scanned the chapel, seemingly matching the current terrain with her distant memories.

Finally, upon seeing a small door on the side of the chapel, Maria’s gaze fixed.

"Lann..." Her gaze unmoving, she asked, "Where did he leave?"

Henrik casually pointed behind him, exactly at the small door Maria had been staring at.

And in this Blood Nobility’s eyes, that path had already overlapped with her memories.

That’s— the Hunter Workshop established by her mentor, Gremman!

White flowers bloomed there, many hunters’ weapons were refined and trained there.

And Lann walking this path, what he meant by ’doing something,’ in Maria’s eyes naturally needed no further explanation.

Instinctively tightened her grip on her weapon.

"Do you still have any blood vials?"

Upon asking this, Maria suddenly realized she hadn’t asked the name of the old hunter in front of her yet, which seemed quite impolite.

But before she could rectify, Henrik, having removed the mask and hat, pointed to Maria’s feet.

A standard bandaged blood vial was placed there, twenty of them, just like a bullet belt carrying shotgun shells.

Maria bent down and picked up these hunting standard blood vials.

"Are you not planning to stop me?"

She cautiously asked.

Henrik shook his head.

"He didn’t let me follow, but also didn’t mention you. I trust him, but I have to admit, I worry about him a bit too."

Suddenly, bending down to pick up the blood vials, Maria looked at Henrik’s calm and aged face, but suddenly froze.

"You are..." she tentatively asked uncertainly, "Henry?"